


I can never keep my mouth shut but I can sure as hell keep my fingers crossed

by privxess



Category: TMR - Fandom, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner, maze runner, the maze runner
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Ive never written a fanfic shot me, M/M, Multi, Smut, all that good stuff even death, i almost forgot ben and hes important oops, maze runner - Freeform, tmr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/privxess/pseuds/privxess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can you crush on your best friend for 4 years and manage not to tell a soul? It's difficult and Minho doesn't want to do it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Friday afternoon and we're already lying

**Author's Note:**

> wow so I've never written a fanfic before and im super nervous this is chapter one

Minho can’t stand one bit of Chemistry class, he hates almost as much as he hates AP English, but just a little less. It’s no help that he has Winston in his class, but maybe he can be really nice and get the answers to tonight's homework so he can stay on the track just a little longer. Unless Newt has a hissy fit, in that case, he has to drive Newt home. Anyways, his teacher is babbling on about some kind of formula and he pretends to take down notes but ends up just drawing circles and lines all over his paper. It’s typical, for Minho at least.

He has 10 minutes until lunch and he can’t be excited enough for it. He can only helplessly stare at the clock and at Winston, since they're the only two things in class he really knows. He tugs at the collar of his hoodie and sighs, carding a hand through his hair boredly, fingers touching still semi-wet hair gel, as he shakes the goop from his fingers.

“Minho, are you listening?” A voice bellows from across the room, earning a loud gasp from Minho. He wasn't ready for that, not at all.

“Uh...yes?” He questions, sitting up in the chair to make it look like he was paying attention.

“Then I’m sure you’d _love_ to tell our class what’s due on Monday then, correct” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest, and _god damn_ Minho, you should have listened.

"Well you see-"

Just like that though, the bell rings and a grin flashes across Minho's face. Saved by the bell. He gathers up his books and exits the classroom, flashing the teacher a cocky kind of wave before bounding down the hallway to shove his text books in his locker, since there is no way he's going to carry them around until the end of the day.

His best friend, Newt,  has the locker next to his, like every year. Newt is his closest friend, next to Alby. But Newt comes first, that's the way it’s always been. They’re both on the track team, though Newt is benched due to his broken foot that he refuses to explain how he got. He said it was some freak accident with a lawnmower, and hell if Minho wanted to question that horrible excuse. Anyways, his real name isn't even Newt, it's Newton, like Isaac Newton but without the Isaac part. The reason you call him Newt is because it's shorter, more easier to say. They've been friends since Elementary school, when Newt moved from England and all that. 

How they became friends, it's a story for another thought. Half his friends almost died and Minho manged to break three of his fingers, but anyways, another time that can be explained.

As he gets closer to his locker, he can see a girl leaning on his locker and talking to Newt. By the looks of it, its Soyna. She's a pretty little girl with light blonde and red hair that fits her pale face nicely. She normally dresses pretty nicely, at least Minho thinks so. From what Minho can tell, she's probably asking Newt about homework or if he's coming to the 'outing' tonight. Or both, probably both.

Approaching the duo, Minho shouts a loud hello to both of them, startling them both.

"Bloody hell, you scared me." Newt sighs hard, staring at his friend.

"Hello to you too, Minho." Sonya greets, ruffling Minho's hair affectionately. She's a sweetheart when her friend's aren't around, other times she's less pleasant. “Anyways, Thanks Newt, but I have to meet up with the girls for lunch.” She explains, turning on her heel and heading away towards the Gym,  both boys watching her as she goes.

“ _Damn_.” Minho says a little heavily, tilting his head to get a better view.

“ _Right_?” Newt replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

Soyna is presumably a smart girl and flashes the middle finger over head at the two boys, almost like she knows what they were thinking as she turns the corner. Out of sight, out of mind, at least that’s how the boys feel.

Minho turns to face Newt, copying the position of his body, arms crossed over his chest as well now. “Plans for tonight?” He asks, smirking a little. He spins himself to face his locker, twisting the lock to the combination before popping it open. He shoves his Chemistry book into the green metal box before slamming it shut and peaking over at Newt a bit.

“You mean with Soyna? No, she was asking if I knew when the paper for Phyc was due, which I don’t.” He explains to his friend, a smirk spreading across his face a little as well. “Why, did you want me to hang out with _you_?” Newt snaps back, bouncing back from his sudden sly comment from Minho, watching him try to lock his locker.

“ ** _Duh_**.” Minho almost can’t wait to say, facing Newt again and grabbing at the front of his hoodie, pulling it away from his body slightly to show his exasperation. “I want you to time me on the track tonight and then we can hit up Walmart for snacks and shit, and then I want to invite everyone to the Glade tonight” He rambles excitedly, using his hands to explain himself more than anything.

"I hate that place." He sighs, looking around the hallway for a second. He really does hate the Glade. It was the first place he and Minho ever went to with their group of friends and everyone almost got seriously hurt. “I’ll think about.” Newt shrugs, turning around and walking towards the cafeteria, Minho following right behind him, not even giving him personal space. With the two of them, there has never been personal space, there has been ‘space’ and ‘not space’ but never personal space. Either they shared the space or nobody got the space, it was a one way street.  That’s also the way it’s always been with them, they were too close for it not to be that way. Though, sometimes Newt would have wanted personal space, he got over it and figured he’d have to deal with it.

By the time they get to lunch, most of their friends are accounted for, save for the girls who are most likely busy doing chick things, like boxing and hitting the shit out of things. That kind of girl thing. The duo get into the lunch line and pick up their food, which is some sloppy combination of pasta and sauce that’s doing it’s best to look good. Like, for a plate of food, it’s trying really hard to look good.

Walking to find a seat, Minho explains how this isn't apart of his recommend diet, even pulling out his phone to show Newt what he means, but of course Newt has seen it all before.

This is an everyday thing and Minho is only silenced by his food, but thank god he’s silenced by something at all.

The two boys end up sitting at a booth, Minhos legs propped up next to Newt’s body, and Newt sitting rather straight. They both silently indulge in the gross lunch food, but show no signs of it being an honest problem, they could pack lunch if they really wanted to. It’s just the matter that they are high school teenage guys who have bigger problems in the morning than packing lunch, like trying to figure out what shoes match their shirt and taking showers. Packing lunch comes last on the list, half the time, they're probably even lucky they get up to begin with.

“Are you coming with us….?” Minho asks again, prompting a sigh from Newt.

“Yes, I always come over on Fridays anyways.” He snickers, mushing his food around with his plastic fork.

"Good, I already texted everyone that we were going, Alby is picking up Harriet and Sonya and then he'll come pick us up." Minho explains proudly.

"I  _love_ how you make plans and ask me last, all the qualities of a true ladies man." Newt retorts.

They grin at each other and Minho would even go out on a limb and say that, ‘yeah, Newts grin is the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on’ if that didn't mean that somebody had the possibility of finding out how he really felt.

 _And yeah, Minho has a crush on his best friend,_ that much is something is can't hide from himself, but he can hide it from everyone else.


	2. the glade and other extreme sports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter? filler chapter. mostly about the glade since a lot more things will happen here and a few new charas will be talked about next chapter or two? i havent really decided yet uvu!!! anyways i hope you enjoy learning about the glade, and remember, what happens in the glade stays in the glade

“Time?”

“8.52.03”

“That’s awful.”

“Minho, what the hell? That’s ten seconds away from your average, I counted.”

“Yeah, but it’s still so... _slow_.” Minho collapses on the track, followed by a loud sigh. If there was any way to discourage him, this was it. Nothing bothered him more than when he thought he was doing bad at track. Track is essentially his life, he put most of his efforts into it so he expected himself to do well at it. If he was failing, he wasn’t truly living then. It was all some kind of mind game he played with himself. He stretches himself out on concrete, trying his best to touch his toes. His hoodie has long been discarded, leaving him shirtless and in track shorts, quite a sight really. The bones in his back press up on his skin, vertebrae by vertebrae, Newt can outline each of them, count them. It kind of bothers him, despite the muscular built, he’s always worried he’s going to push himself out to far. Ruin his body more than Newt think he’s already done. He could probably account for every time Minho has gotten hurt really bad and brushed it off as something minor.

"You can't overwork yourself." Newt furrows his brows, setting the stopwatch down on the bench and standing up. He looks down at his feet, the one remains covered by a black boot, to stop any more damage to his foot then what's done. He was in a cast a few weeks ago, he’s almost healed, which means he can start running again, if he even really wants to. Newt moves closer to Minho and rubs his hands together, before placing them on the other boys shoulders. “It’s really bad for you, you know that...what if you get hurt **again**.” He sighs, pushing Minhos back down further, a whimper escaping the lips of the other.

“ _Ow, ow_.” He hisses, taking a deep breath and holding onto his feet for support.

“ ** _Relax_**.” Newt shushes, pushing until Minhos back cracks with a satisfying sound.

Minho lets out a loud sigh, feeling Newt release him and take a step back. It’s always the same after games and practice. Newt helps him to make sure he doesn't ruin his body and complains about how hard Minho pushes himself, and Minho pretends to listen. It’s all part of their friendship. Minho gets to his feet and stretches, his arms cracking as he moves them unnaturally. He moves to gather his and Newts back, tugging on a t-shirt he packed with him before, the cloth clinging to his sweat covered torso almost imedeitly. If it’s not attractive to at least Newt, then Newt is a _liar_ when he says that he doesn't find Minho attractive.

* * *

 

The Glade. The Glade is where most of the kids share memories with one another, hung out, and learned about how shitty life could possibly be for them all, at the same time. It’s a field, a big open field, fenced in with barbed wired and it’s too many acres of land to count. It’s huge, it stretches so far into the woods that you’re sure the Glade at one point was invested with animals, or something like that anyways. There is a single house in the middle, it reaches up about two full stories, but it’s huge. The girls and boys and restored it the best they could, most of it was Gally and Beth instructing people on how to move things, but none the less its great. They have water and lights, and they bring their own food and drinks and music. It’s a place of solitude and relaxation, only sometimes though. Even on the door, lazily scrawled into the wooden doors by Gally is the phrase 'What happens in The Glade, stays in The Glade' and it's so cliche, nobody even cares, but it's serious.

The Glade also holds a variety of a few bad memories. It was the first place they all sat down and talked about the group of classmates that had died in a car accident on the way home from school a few years ago, back in middle school. It was an experience that had mostly affected Alby and Gally, as they had known them the best. It was a mind numbing thing, but it was years ago, they don’t think much on it anymore.

By the time the group get to the Glade, it’s half past ten already, but they ‘ _Gladers_ ’ are more than ready to have a party big enough to take down the entire block. They are all drunk as hell and it makes Minho wish he got a ride with Gally.

Gally is everyone’s friend, but nobody’s friend all at the same time, he’s the wrestling team champion and has never been defeated, so go figure he’s kind of dating Beth. They work cute together, seeing how Beth is this cute little girl who owns the girls weightlifting team and makes Gally her bitch all at the same time. Her and Gally aren't afraid to bash heads together, so together, they are this cute little icon of murder and power, all while being cute.

On the topic of relationships, the ‘ _Gladers_ ’ have built quite a large one with each other. Nobody else has ever fully said out how they feel about each other, but Minho has made this fancy little chart in his head.

He’s 90% sure that the two medical students, Clint and Jeff, are a thing, but they haven’t said anything to each other. It’s an assumption.

He’s also at least 98% sure that Harriet is either dating Alby or Soyna, or something. He has no idea, but something is going on with one of those two, but, he’ll leave that for another time.

He’d also take a bet and say Rachel is dating that fancy rich kid, Aris, or something along those lines.

There was no point in going on this thought process, with Newt grabbing his hand and passing his a bottle of beer. The rest of the night was a blur and he can’t remember all that much. He remember smoking with Alby and singing with Gally and his other friend, who goes by Frypan ( ~~it’s something about football, Minho can’t even think about it now~~ ).

The last thing he remembers is him and Newt falling onto his bedroom floor and passing out and the red lights of his clock blinking the time _**3:03**_ at him almost too brightly.

That’s a normal night out in The Glade.


	3. weekends and ways to waste them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay a new chapter uvu!!!! this took too long to write, mainly bc it was kinda trashy, but i like it enough to post. the plot will start coming on about the next chapter i just had to get some housekeeping under the mat!! uvu! enjoy this one

It’s so hard to wake up in the morning, it’s almost as if he’s drowning in his sleep and one to many drinks from last night. Newt struggles to rise himself off the carpeted floor, tossing a sleeping Minho’s arm off his body, a _thump_ following the sound. He’s like a log when he sleeps, god damn. He feels disgusting, his head hurts, he smells like beer and weed and cigarettes, and he’s sweat covered and in last nights clothes. He can’t remember half the night, but he thanks god that Minho’s mother is a doctor and is never home.

Take it, it’s sad in the case Minho doesn't see his mother, but right now, being talked to by an adult would be horrible.  Mostly since he’s horribly hungover and feel like total shit, but he’s willing to rest his case with just that.

Managing to get to his feet, Newt takes a moment and tries to get his bearings fully. Wallet, still in pants. Keys, still in pants. Phone, still in pants, dead, but not lost. He empties out his pockets onto Minhos bed and snatches the cord for his phone (him and Minho have the same one, go figure) and he plugs it in. He’s sure his sister and parents blew up his texts and calls, asking if he was okay. He had told him he was going over Minhos again, not like they cared after all these years but it was still good for them to know he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.  On that thought, Newt frowns to himself and leaves the bedroom and a sleeping Minho, directing himself to the bathroom, closing the door.

In the bathroom, Newt stares at himself in the mirror and wonders when the last time Minho cleaned it was? Must have been forever, with toothpaste somehow stuck to the edges. Other than that, it’s pretty clean. He lets himself walk to the shower, turning it on and trying to find a towel as the water warms up.

He locates one under the sink, setting it on the towel rack next to the shower, before realizing he hasn’t  pissed since some time last night, so he does that too. He’s about to rid himself of his clothes completely, before remembering he has to remove the ridiculous boot on his foot, unsnapping and buckling the coffin from his foot. Staring down at it, he sighs slightly, wiggling his toes and taking a sharp breath as the pain shoots through his foot. The scars travel around his foot from where the bone went through the skin that day and he doesn't want to think about this anymore, yanking off his shirt and pants (boxers sliding down with them as well) before climbing into the shower.

He spends the next 20 minutes washing his body and hair, trying to get the smell of underage drinking and weed out of his scalp and skin. It’s not that he regrets it, it’s that he doesn’t prefer that smell, though its akin to sticking to his skin like collange. By the time he gets out, he can hear singing from down the hall, which means that either Minho is singing a little too loudly in his parents shower, or he’s just singing too loudly in his room.

_One or the other._

Newt quickly grabs his towel off the rack, drying his hair before he wraps the towel around his waist and he leaves the bathroom. Minho is nowhere in the room, so Newt quickly raids his closet and dresser.

The problem is, is that Minho is more built than Newt, but Newt can deal with the slight baggy clothes. He finds a pair of Minhos boxers and basketball shorts, throwing them off, before finding a t-shirt and yanking that on. Running his fingers through his wet hair, he sighs, plopping down on the bed and picking up his phone

 

> _10 NEW MESSAGES_
> 
> _4 MISSED CALLS_

Newt sighs, flipping to his moms contact and sending her a message.

 

> _Sorry, phone died. At Minhos house, be back tonight or tomorrow night. Phones charging, going to eat breakfast. Love you._

Soon enough Minho emerges from the door, already dressed and hair sticking to his face, meaning he hasn’t even touched it. “Last night was hella fun, wasn’t it? And you didn’t wanna go.”

* * *

 

15 minutes pass and the two  males are sitting on the couch in the living room, Newt flicking through TV channels, and Minho doing his best to arrange their ‘breakfast’ on the table in front of them. It consists of orange juice, a bunch of random fruits, toaster waffles, and microwaved pancakes. A meal fit for a king and his best friend, something like that.

“There’s **_nothing_ ** on.” Newt admits, still clicking the remote.

“Look for a movie.” Minho adds, reaching for his cup of juice.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, something with action.”

“It’s Saturday morning, it’s 10 AM and you want an action movie?”

“Put on cartoons, hell if I care.”

“ _Fine then_.” Newt snickers, typing in the channel number he normally plays for his sister.

Within moments, the TV flickers and on the screen is a bunch of mermaid like children floating around aimlessly and talking.

Minho doesn't say anything, picking up a paper plate and keeping his eyes trained on the screen while trying to fill his plate with food and Newt follows suit.

And the two boys sit there and end up watching childrens shows for about 20 minutes while they eat, until Minhos cell phone rings.

He digs it out of his pocket and frowns, looking at the screen. “I’m going to go out there and pick it up, probably a scout for college or something.” He shrugs, walking out of the room, leaving Newt alone.

Pressing call is the last thing Minho wanted to do, the text “Mom” flashing up on his screen. It taunts him, almost as if a constant reminder that his mother has to work full time to support her and her son, their father had succumed of Cancer three years ago. She work full hours on Weekends and come home at times in the morning and just sleeps. Sleep until she gets up and leave again and it burns a hole in his chest. Weekdays are worse, he never sees her. Only on Track Meets if he’s lucky enough to have her come and it just hurts a lot. He presses call, despite the uneasy feeling it gives him.

“Hey mom.”

“Hi sweetie! How are you, sorry I’m not home yet. home yet, there was a medical emergency last night.” A lie, he’s sure, he’s sure she was just too busy to get home last night. Too tired even,crashed at a friends or a hotel.

“It’s okay, the guys and I hung out last night and Newt slept over. He’s staying the weekend probably.” Minho explain, rubbing his face absently.

“Oh! How are the guys, you all are still friends right?” She questions, Minho’s eyes rolling. In the room over he can hear Newt, moving around.

“Fine, fine! Yeah, it was me, Alby, Newt, Ben, Gally, Winston, Siggy, you know, _the works_.”

A loud shouting noise is heard from the other line and Minho can feel the end of his conversation starting, a sharp voice calling his mothers name. “Shoot, sweetie I gotta go! Tell Newton hello for me and I miss you alot!” And the line is dead.

He slinks back into the room, sitting next to Newt on the couch. Phone calls with his mom are normally like this, so aimless and boring that it makes him feel sad and he just can’t help it. Newt knows this too, pressing his lips together in a thin line. They sit quietly now. The mood simmers a little painfully, watching the TV channel change and it gives him a second to realize there isn’t any sound, Newt heard all of it. _All painful 46 seconds of a phone call with his mom_.

The rest of the weekend is as boring as they go. They go out for dinner, come home, play video games, a round of shots, trying to prank people, sleep, eat. Newt goes home early Sunday morning. Minho stays home alone, like always, he hates feeling this way after weekends. Alone and empty and so fucking bored.


	4. punk rock playing softly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow another chapter? we're getting somewhere finally,,,,,

“Are _they_ new?” Gally asks, leaning across the lunch table to snag some of Frypans food. “I haven’t see either one of them before.” He tacks on, sitting back down in his seat leaning back enough to get his feet shoved on top of Minho’s who quickly kicks him off.

“I guess?” Minho tilts his head, taking a bite out of a sandwich, watching the rest of his friends look around for the people in question. "Don't know why we would get two transfer kids now, though."

“Newt, don’t you and Alby keep up with that?” Frypan adds his own question, stealing the milk off of Gallys tray which earns him a lob to the head with a plastic fork from said person.

“Well, yeah? But I don’t really know about them. I heard we were getting transfers from somewhere but the school wouldn't let me or Soyna process the files. I asked Alby if he or Harriet processed them for us but he said that Miss Paige took them and locked them up.” He explains, earning a glance from Gally, and yeah, he’s not pleased with what Newt is saying.“It’s not _**my** _ fault.” He admits, elbowing Gally softly.

“Whatever, I already don’t like them.”

“You don’t even know their names.” Minho points out.

“They have names. Teresa Anges and Thomas. Couldn't get a last name off the computer before the damn thing crashed.” Alby suddenly says, taking a seat next to Newt. Alby is on almost every sports team and every school committee, and he’s pretty much the nicest person ever. He's tall and has dark skin and could most likely bench press as much as Minho or maybe Gally. He's the President of the student body, with Harriet, Soyna, and Newt at his side? They basically can get anything done.

“Are they related?” Minho.

“ _Nope_.”

“Friends?” Gally.

“I guess.”

“Let’s invite them to sit with us.” Frypan.

“That’s a _**horrible** _ idea, Siggy.” Gally spits, kicking the bottom of the table.

“You’re not ten, shut up.” Frypan hisses, kicking the table as well.

Then they're arguing, Gally already slamming his hands on the table and getting to his feet. This could only end badly, with Frypan's football skills and Gallys wrestling and boxing achievements? Lunch would break out into full chaos, if people weren't used to this. The round of arguing proves to get nowhere, mostly when Minho tries to jump in and defuse the situation but ends up yelling at them both and then Ben and Winston show up and somehow end up involved with the fight. Soon enough, the entire table is erupting with an argument that has nothing to do with the original, and Alby is 100% sure if he doesn't jump in, Gally is going to ram his foot down Frypans throat.

“Guys...”

Nothing.

“ _Guys_.”

Still nothing.

“ _ **Children** **!**_ ” He shouts, everyone stopping and looking up at Alby. It took almost all his willpower to remain calm, seeing as Frypan and Gally are holding fistfulls of each others shirt and Gallys other arm is pulled back and ready to punch , Ben has Winston in a headlock, and Newt is jabbing Minho in the chest with a finger (when did he join the fight, he’s not even sure).

“What?” Ben groans, letting Winston free, earning him a hard shove.

“The bell rang.”

And just like that, the Gladers and getting up and sprinting across the lunch room, trying to avoid being late. As bad as they all are, they like getting to classes on time.

* * *

 

“Thats the new kid right?” Sonya whispers, trying to peak over Minhos shoulder to see him without looking creepy. “He looks scared, go talk to him!” She urges the male, trying to shove him and getting nowhere.

“And miss out on running? _Psh, girl you be trippin’_.” He snickers, taking a step forward, the female on his heels.

“Boy, your grammar  ' _be trippin'_ '.” She retorts. “But seriously, go talk to him! He probably has no friends and you’re like the friendliest person I know!”

“Nice deduction _Nancy Holmes_.”

“It’s _Nancy Drew_ and _Sherlock Holmes_ , god, didn't you learn anything _besides_ how to run your mouth?” She clicks her tongue, walking in front of him. “Talk with him, if you make friends with him I’ll do your Chemistry research paper.”

“Deal."

"If you lie I'll know!" She calls out.

As easily won over as Minho was with Soyna's trade, he can back up Gally's issue with new kids, easy to do it. They always had a certain sense of ‘I’m better than you’ that Minho wasn't fond of. Jogging up to to who assumed Thomas was, he paced himself next to him. “Hey, names Minho.” He starts, Thomas looks at him and at the floor, frowning a bit. “Not much of a talker? I can dig that.” He keeps the conversation going, still not earning any kind of reply from the kid. Not even twenty seconds later, Thomas is taking off on the track, leaving Minho stunned for what feels like forever.

“Track team material?” Sonya sounds off from behind him.

“Track team material.” He repeats, taking off after Thomas to catch up to him, this is great. After Newts accident, the team hasn't been the best. With Him, Ben, Alby every once and awhile, and some kid who is just ‘testing’ the waters. He needed somebody like Thomas on the team, he feels it right in his heart, that Thomas is perfect for this. It takes Minho no time to catch up though, breaking into a jog once he gets close enough.

“Thomas. My name, it’s Thomas.” He breathes out, grasping his chest and panting heavily. Whatever energy that kid had, it’s gone. _Short distance runner_. Perfect. Minho takes a once over, watching this kid doubled over on the track and he spies Sonya jotting down facts on a little notebook that no doubt, was hidden in her bra. Shes the ‘President’ of the girls Weightlifting Team and the Founder of the school Girls Boxing Team. So, if anybody knows sports better than her, they need to think twice about themselves.

“And so, he speaks.” Minho grins ear to ear, a grin spreading into his face harder than he wanted, but it fits.

“What’s that mean.” Thomas snaps, Minho not even flinching at the way his voice sounds. Hell, he’s Gallys friend for hell's sake.

“That you talk, I wanted to talk to you.”

“About **_what_**.” Thomas mumbles, pulse increasing. Why was this kid talking to him? He was obviously something that he wasn't. He saw him at lunch, with his friends and all that. What could he want Thomas?

“Meet me on the track after school.” Minho explains. giving him a thumbs up, out of the corner of his eye he can see Soyna feverishly writing on her pad and he thinks her pen will snap in half, a light in her eyes that breathes ‘ ** _State champions_** ’. In that exact moment, Minho thinks she might be crazy, but thinks she could be right. Or maybe he’s just seeing things, but he goes with his gut and runs a hand through his hand. He gives the kid a once over and sighs, but a fire burns in his eyes. “ _You just got yourself a one way ticket to WICKED High’s track team, The Grievers_.”


End file.
